A Faded Portrait
by Lady Auzie
Summary: Arthur Kirkland lives in the shadow of his former glory, and in an attempt to escape, he tries to find aknowledgement from the one person who he believed to have stopped caring long ago, only to dicover things aren't always as they seem. Yaoi USUK Franada
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys long time no writing. I feel bad about that but my muse is a fickle bitch and she seems to be spurning my need to finish all of my Ouran Stories so instead I thought I would let you all know that I'm still alive and kicking by posting this. Please note that this is my first time writing a yaoi pairing so if you aren't into this sort of thing don't read this story. But when I saw this show the fanfiction just seemed to call out to me. Note that the characters may seem a wee bit out of character but I believe that's the beauty of writing fanfiction, taking the presentation of a character and interpreting them in your own way. **

**I got a review earlier and I would just like to say as a warning that there are going to be moments of France/UK. Also there are going to be some moments of sexual content between the two, however ultimately the pairings in this story will turn out to be USUK and Franada. If you are extremely against FrUK in any form I suggest you don't read this story because the tension FrUK creates is an important part of the plot.**

**Also I apologize in advance for anything that is wrong. If there is something wrong with either spellings or information please let me know and I'll do my best to fix it. **

**Neway I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers**

"_You used to be so great"_

Arthur Kirkland stared morosely into his lukewarm cup of tea. Even now the words that America had spoken that day plagued his mind. Even after centuries the observation stung just as much as it had the moment Alf…no America had spoken them. Arthur supposed that in a way America was right. The British Empire began to slowly wear down until Arthur's territory was once again confined to the United Kingdom, and even those borders had been sketchy during World War II. Arthur absentmindedly rubbed the area over his heart. The scaring was slowly fading but Arthur knew that there would always be a physical reminder of the dark days of the Blitzkrieg. A phantom pain throbbed in his chest and Arthur winced slightly and pressed down in an attempt to ease the pain. The kicker he mused was that America had effectively replaced him after WWII as a world superpower with his invention of the atomic bomb. After the fateful event that damaged Kiku to an extent no one thought he could get over, America's words taunted him pilling abuse on his already damaged heart by saying

"_Look at how I've replaced you; you'll never be as great as you once were, Great Britain, well not anymore anyway."_

Arthur sighed heavily and moved his gaze from his now undrinkable tea and to the dreary streets of London. Normally Arthur loved to look out from the window of his flat and see the bustling life of his capital, but today the overcast skies and the steady drizzle of rain washed out the color from his beloved city and made the entire view lifeless. Dull and worn out. _Like me_ Arthur couldn't help but observe. The grandfather clock chimed and he looked to find that it was already 10 in the morning. Arthur shot to his feet. _Bloody Hell, the World Meeting starts in half an hour and I'm still in my sodding house coat and slippers._ Arthur raced for his room to prepare for the meeting but on his way in the door he couldn't help but wonder, _but would it really matter if I was late. It's not like it is essential for me to be present._

In the conference room where the world meeting was being held, chatter amongst the countries filled the room. Germany sat in his chair rubbing at his temples as the chaos of sound bombarded his eardrums. France sat near him complaining quite loudly to…well nobody really, the seat beside him was empty. Germany rolled his eyes. The French were always a pathetic lot anyway. Germany felt his irritation grow as the Frenchman made a wild hand gesture and raised his volume. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a small body collided with his back. Germany grunted as he was pitched forward in his chair from the velocity of the small man's hug.

"Ve, ve~, Germany when are we going to start the meeting. I want pasta and you said we couldn't go get some until the meeting was over" The tiny Italian whined. Germany sighed and turned his head to look at his overly excited friend.

"We cannot start until everyone is here," Germany patiently explained. His words barely put a crack in Northern Italy's sunny expression.

"But I'm a hungry," Italy said. Germany's eyebrow twitched with annoyance, then he noticed that Italy's arms were still wrapped around him and he felt himself start to blush. He turned his head quickly to hide it from the other nation.

"Too bad," Germany grunted.

"Oi potato bastard get your filthy paws off mi fratello!" The other half of Italy shouted at Germany from across the table. Germany wanted very badly to tell the older Italian twin that in no way did he instigate the contact between him and the younger twin, but he knew that it wouldn't be worth the barrage of every Italian curse word in the dictionary, the southern Italy would throw his way. _Mein Gott! England had better get here soon!_ Germany thought angrily.

"And ze manners of ze British are so rude. In France we would never behave in such a way. He ez late and not in a fashionable way no?" Francis ranted to the empty seat beside him which actually held Canada. Canada squirmed in his chair and blushed slightly. He didn't want to badmouth his other former guardian with his original one. But Francis was the only country who recognized him on a consistent basis, and never confused him with his brother. Matthew stared at the Frenchman admiring his perfect hair and dazzling blue eyes. "Mathieu! Mathieu, are you listening to me?" Francis asked angrily. Matthew was snapped out of his gazing and blushed heavily.

"O-oui, I am listening. M-maybe A-Arthur just got held up-p by something, eh." Matthew stuttered. Francis shot him a disbelieving look.

"Non!" he exclaimed, "L'Angletere ez just making us wait for iz own amusement." Francis threw his hands up in the air and huffed angrily. "He ez probably just ung over from drinking too much last night!" Matthew sighed. _Ahhhh, there the truth comes out. Francis is just worried about Arthur. After all Arthur is never late to meetings. _ Canada wished for a moment that Francis could show some of the same concern he showed for England for him. Matthew had been in love with Francis for a very long time, but he knew the Frenchman would never feel the same. After all he was a nobody here, and the flashy country would never settle for someone who wasn't as incredible as he was. Matthew looked sadly at the table as Francis continued to rant about England. _Nope, no chance at all_ he thought dejectedly.

Then the doors to the meeting room slammed open and a very flustered looking Brit stumbled into the room. The room went silent and England's face turned red.

"Ah look who decided to grace us with zeir presence." Francis said mockingly.

"Shut up Frog!" Arthur shouted his face flaming brighter. Francis chortled at Arthur's expense. He rose gracefully to his feet and pulled a flailing Britain into an embrace.

"Oh mon ami, your words wound me so," Francis said dramatically. Arthur growled at his best friend…or worst enemy…it really depended on the day.

"Get off me Francis, you bloody pervert!" Arthur shouted swiping at the Frenchman with his fist. Francis easily dodged and chuckled.

"Ah L'Angletere I am a lover not a fighter, and as the country of love it ez my duty to share it with the world," Francis said.

"Well then share it with someone who wants it you great poncey git!" Arthur yelled and quickly moved out of the Frenchman's grasp.

"Dude, what took you so long? Aren't you Brits supposed to be like freakin anal about being on time and shit like that?" America's loud and obnoxious voice called from the chair beside the only empty seat. Arthur reluctantly made his way over to the chair.

"Shut up you wanker!" Arthur hissed at America.

"Whatever dude, you're just jealous over my awesome hero status," America boasted. Alfred waited for the Brit to snap at him and continue the fight just like they always but the retort never came. He looked down at the Brit who had his face tilted down and his mop of hair casted over his eyes. "Hey are you okay, man?"

"Sod off, America," Britain said turning and glaring up at the American. Alfred noticed that the glare didn't hold near as much fire as it normally did. _Well that's weird_ Alfred thought but turned away and left the British man alone. Arthur's glare melted into a look of what one could only call a look of desperation. The look on the Englishman's face knocked the breath from Matthew's lungs. It was a look he saw on his own face every day. The look that screamed, notice me, and pleaded for someone to make him worth something. Matthew glanced to his side at Francis and sighed softly. If only it were as easy as putting an expression on one's face. Canada should know, after all he had been wearing the same expression as Arthur for his entire life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys glad that this story has met with a positive feedback so far. Please note that the rating will go up to M in this chapter for a light lime (oral) scene so if it sickens you don't read it. You'll be able to tell when it starts. **

**Also note that in this story the sex acts that will occur are as follows oral, anal, and maybe rimming. I will put warnings up in the author's note so you all are aware what is going to happen and if you don't wish to read it you can avoid it. **

**Thank you so much for those of you that have reviewed and subscribed to the story I would love it if you kept reading and reviewed some more. Also I have a slight issue with America being the complete dummy that they portray in the anime because I have a hard time believing that anyone can be that shallow…So if he seems out of character I apologize profusely and if it bothers you so much then don't read this story, because I plan to insert moments into this story where America has a more serious/mature side to him. Don't worry good ol' lovable Alfred will still be present just not all the time. I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers**

He thinks that I don't notice, that it doesn't affect me, but man if only he knew… Alfred F. Jones sat in his hotel room with his shoes propped up on the hotel coffee table. He was in a rare contemplative mood. These sorts of moods didn't happen to him often, only when he noticed that something in his world wasn't what it should be. When something occurred in Alfred's life that didn't quite fit with the normal patterns, then everything that bothered him bubbled to the forefront of his mind. Alfred lived for science and patterns. His mind took in the situations around it and immediately noticed patterns, so when something went wrong and the pattern was interrupted Alfred's scientific mind had to stop and try and figure out the puzzle. Once he figured it out then depending on the nature of the solution America would come out and solve the problem.

Normally Alfred could easily put on the face of America and make the other countries not take him too seriously. The public face was a useful tool America used to protect himself. He was America the Hero after all, and Alfred F. Jones was his secret identity. All superhero's had to protect their secret identities, it was necessary for the hero to be super awesome and successful. The only countries who had ever known him as both Alfred and America were Canada, Lithuania (for a brief time), and of course Britain. Besides Canada, Britain had known him as Alfred for the longest time. During Alfred's days as a colony Arthur stepped in to raise him and essentially become the most important being in the world to the budding nation. Naturally as he grew Alfred's affections for the Brit began to change, while Arthur's feelings towards Alfred remained the same. That was when Alfred realized that Arthur still saw him as a kid and his first pattern interruption occurred. Alfred realized that he had to get out from under Arthur's control and be his own entity, and thus the Revolutionary war. He didn't see Arthur for some time after that, not until the War of 1812 to be precise. Arthur burned his capital to the ground and left a gaping wound in Alfred heart. Alfred touched the healed burn scar over his heart and frowned. Arthur just started acting colder and colder towards Alfred and each time the Brit did something new to distance himself from the American, Alfred pitched head first into morose contemplation. Alfred still remembered clearly the first time that Arthur had called him America instead of Alfred. On that day he felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and ground into the dirt. Despite his mangled heart Arthur calling him solely as America became part of the pattern and however much Alfred wished that wasn't the case the act stuck. Alfred hoped that with the formation of the Special Relationship after WWII Arthur would stop acting so coldly towards him but the pattern didn't change. Alfred gave into his growing despair and hung his face in his hands. And today, the pattern shifted again Alfred thought sadly. Now it seems like I'm not even worth associating with. Ever since the Revolution Arthur always had a snappy comeback for anything Alfred said to him, a nasty look. He had an opposition to every idea the American had and always voiced his opinion clear as day. But now he didn't fight back like he used to or should have…how on earth can I fix this? Alfred contemplated. The main goal of course was to have Arthur fall madly in love with him and finally see Alfred at the level that he yearned to be seen at. But how to go about doing that…Maybe the first step is getting him to stop seeing me as a high strung brat and more like a man. The light bulb went off in Alfred's head and a huge grin curled onto his lips. His plan was full proof. He was guarantees success. The Hero always got the girl in the end no matter what. America nestled back into the couch cushions and kicked his dress shoes off. He picked up the hotel phone and dialed room service. His epic plan deserved a celebratory hamburger and soda.

After the meeting ended and America disappeared, Arthur walked quickly towards his house in order to avoid the other nations. He didn't feel up to being civil with any of them let alone courteous. However Arthur's wish for solitude wasn't granted. Francis called out to him in his loud obnoxious voice.

"Oh, mon petite lapin, where are you going?" Francis said. Arthur shuddered _Oh all people it just had to be that bloody frog_ he thought irritably.

"Ah Francis, sorry old chap but I'm a little busy at the moment, so if you'll excuse me…"Arthur was cut off by the Frenchman throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into his side. The Brit grunted softly.

"Non, zat simply will not do, I must take zis time to catch up with mon ami, after all we haven't seen eachozer in so long no?" Francis smirked down at the Englishman. Arthur glared up at Francis.

"Listen you bloody Frog I don't want to catch up! I just want to go home!" Arthur snapped. Francis chuckled in the perverse way that made the hairs on the back if Arthur's neck stand strait up.

"Oh but Arthur, I just want to take you out for a drink," Francis said. Arthur glared even harder at the Frenchman, "my treat," Francis added quickly. There was a pause between the two of them as Arthur considered the other man's offer.

"Entirely your treat?" the Englishman asked skeptically. Francis smirked victoriously; he knew at that point he had won.

"Oui mon cher, I shall pay for everything," Francis said. There was another pause and then Arthur stopped glaring at the other man.

"Fine, I guess…besides getting smashed is just what I need," Arthur added under his breath. He missed the leer that Francis shot in his direction as Arthur strode down the sidewalk towards his favorite pub. "Are you going to keep me waiting Frog?" Arthur barked irritably over his shoulder.

"Non, never mon cher," Francis said grinning lecherously at the shorter man's back.

A few hours later the two sat at the bar. Francis sat strait in his stool smirking at the completely drunk Englishman. Arthur lay draped over the counter loosely holding his glass of rum in his hand. His green eyes were glazed over and his speech was slurred.

"Bloody sodding brat, e is," Arthur muttered under his breath. "Rising up like that from nowhere." Francis wasn't listening to the drunken ramblings of his friend instead he was plotting on how to get the Englishman to ask him to come home with him.

"Arthur," Francis purred, "Perhaps you've had enough no?" Arthur slowly turned and glared at his drinking partner.

"I'll stop when I'm good and ready you damn frog. I'm the United bloody Kingdom and I can hold my liquor just fine thank you," Arthur slurred. Francis rolled his eyes but changed his tactics.

"Zat's not what I meant at all mon cher, but surely you have better liquor at your place?" Francis prodded. Arthur didn't answer him for a while.

"Of course I do, come on let's go. It's better than this swill anyway." Arthur proclaimed staggering to his feet. He stumbled and almost fell on his face. Francis caught him and pulled the Brit in close to his own body. The Frenchman slapped some money down onto the bar and marched his inebriated companion out of the bar and towards his flat. "Let go of me you bloody idiot, I can walk just fine on my own!" Arthur protested. Francis ignored him and instead pulled the other man in tighter.

"Oh certainly L'Agleterre, but then who would keep me warm? It is quite chilly tonight no?" Francis flirted squeezing the Brit's waist lightly. Arthur flushed.

"Damn Frenchie," Arthur grumbled halfheartedly wrapping his own arm around Francis. Francis smirked triumphantly. _Maybe a good shag will shake me out of this mood I've been caught in_ Arthur thought drunkenly.

The pair reached Arthur's building and they managed to stumble up the stairs and to his front door. Arthur fumbled for his keys and moved to open the front door. Francis seized the opportunity and plastered himself to the smaller man's back. He reached down and ran both hands up the insides of Arthur's thighs.

"Come on mon petite lapin, hurry up. I want you so badly," Francis whispered boldly into the other man's ear. Arthur shuddered and almost dropped his keys. Francis moved his hands and started to gently stroke along the top of the Brit's trousers. Arthur bit back a moan and finally got the door open. The pair practically fell inside. Francis shut the door and locked it before turning around and gazing at the Englishman. The color was high in Arthur's cheek a mixture of alcohol and arousal. Francis smirked and advanced slowly on the smaller man. Arthur kept craning his neck back as the Frenchman got closer and closer. Once they were chest to chest Francis leaned down by the Brit's ear and breathed on it softly. Arthur shuddered against him and brought his hands up to wraparound Francis' waist for support.

"Comment scandaluese Angleterre. Vous voulez plus non?" Francis purred into the other man's ear. He ran his tongue around the rim of Arthur's ear and then took the lobe in between his teeth and bit gently. Arthur moaned and squirmed against Francis. Francis trailed kisses down Arthur's jaw and ended at the other man's mouth where he pressed an insistent kiss on the Brit's lips. Arthur let the other man in instantly and started a duel between their tongues. Francis trailed his hands down the other man's sides and swiftly pulled the hem of Arthur's dress shirt out of his pants. Arthur shrugged out of his jacket and Francis reached up under the hem of Arthur's shirt and trailed his hands over the small of Arthur's back. They pulled away from the other's lips for air but Francis was back at Arthur's body almost instantly. He trailed biting kisses down the others throat and back up until he found the other's pulse point. Francis smirked and started sucking on that patch of skin. Arthur mewled in pleasure. Francis moved one of his hands up to Arthur's neck and started to unbutton his shirt. Arthur yelped as Francis bit down on his pulse. Francis maneuvered the pair of them towards Arthur's bedroom sucking and biting on the Brit's neck and jaw the entire way. Arthur panted heavily; his eyes glazed over from pleasure and alcohol, and allowed himself to be steered by the aggressive Frenchman.

The pair reached the bedroom and Arthur found himself with the back of his knees pressed against the mattress. His shirt was completely unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders. Francis pushed Arthur down onto the bed and leered down at the submissive Englishman. Arthur shrugged out of his shirt and threw it to the floor. Francis knelt up on the bed over the other man and kissed him hungrily on the mouth. The Frenchman trailed a hand down Arthur's torso and stopped just above the other man's trousers. Arthur reached up and fumbled with the other man's buttons. He managed to get them undone as the Frenchman stroked teasingly just above his erection. Arthur broke out of the kiss with a moan as the other man palmed him through his trousers. His eyes squeezed shut with pleasure.

Francis smirked and trailed his tongue down the other's body stopping at the peaked nipples of the Brit. He pulled one into his mouth and teased it with his tongue and sucking harshly. Arthur moaned again and Francis relished every sound he pulled out of the Englishman's lips. He reached up his other hand and teased the neglected nipple. Francis smirked against Arthur's chest and bit down harshly on the Brit's nipple. Arthur moaned loudly and arched into the Frenchman's touch. Francis detached himself from the Brit and trailed his lips down the other's body stopping over the button on Arthur's pants. Francis glanced up at the other's face and snickered softly. Arthur's lips were slightly parted as he panted softly and his eyes were shut tightly. His hands clutched at the bedding beneath him in an attempt to anchor himself against the pleasure. France smirked and returned his attention to Arthur's pants. He pulled at the button with his teeth and managed to get the other's pants undone and the zipper pulled down with his teeth. Arthur moaned. Francis pulled the other's trousers down revealing tented boxers. The Frenchman gazed lustily at the erection in front of him and leaned down towards it. Francis mouthed Arthur's member through his boxers. The Brit groaned loudly and bucked up towards the Frenchman's mouth, his eyes still screwed tightly shut.

Francis chuckled softly and held the Englishman's hips down.

"So impatient mon cher," Francis said huskily stripping the underwear off of Arthur's body. Francis leaned down and teased the head of Arthur's erection with his tongue. Arthur muffled a moan by biting down on his lips. Francis chuckled, blowing air onto Arthur's member causing the Brit to moan louder. The Frenchman drew the head of Arthur's penis into his mouth and sucked hungrily. He moved his head down and drew his tongue along the vein in the underside of the erection. Francis expertly deep throated the Brit and hummed around the other man's penis. The sounds poured from Arthur's mouth as he tried desperately to buck his hips up into the Frenchman's mouth. Francis drew his head up and down the other man's erection and sucked expertly. A strangled moan found its way out of the Brit's lips and he tensed up. Francis felt the other's movement and knew the other man was close to cumming. Francis lightened up his movements and licked teasingly at the head.

"P-please!" Arthur begged tangling his hand in the other's hair and pushing down. Francis grinned and suddenly deep throated the other and sucked hard. Arthur came explosively in the other's mouth. "A-Alfred," he moaned out falling lax onto the bed. Francis froze and then immediately rose up over the other man. A stray splatter of cum decorated the side of his face. Francis' eyes blazed as he glared angrily down at the other man.

"Qu'est-ce?" Francis squawked indignantly. "De quel nom avez-vous m'appler?" But it didn't matter because Arthur lay passed out on the bed.

**Don't kill me for leaving you all with a cliffy. I will update soon tho. **

**Translations in order of appearance.**

_**How scandalous England. You want more no?**_

_**What?**_

_**What name did you call me?**_

**If these are incorrect please let me know and I will fix them immediately. I don't speak French so I got these off of the google translator. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys thanks so much to those of you who reviewed on the last chapter. Sorry for the wait but with the first semester of college stuff put onto the back burner but don't worry this fic hasn't been abandoned, so without further ado I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers.**

"Mon Dieu! I cannot believe zis!" Francis raged scowling down at the unconscious British man beneath him. "I do zat for him and he cannot even ave the grace to say my name!" Francis crawled angrily off of Arthur and stomped out of the room grumbling to himself. He stormed to the Brit's kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator looking for anything with alcohol.

"It ez always Amerique zis and Amerique zat, ever since we discovered zat little brat in ze new world!" Francis, not finding any liquor, slammed the door with disgust. He resorted to ripping open cabinets until he found Arthur's alcohol stash inside the pantry. Francis angrily looked through the different bottles and settled for an almost full bottle of brandy. The nation then found a glass and poured himself a drink before taking a long draught of the liquor. It burned down his throat making Francis shudder and then pant for breath after he was done. Francis grabbed the bottle and the glass and made his way over to Arthur's window overlooking the street. The street below was quiet and illuminated softly with light from the lampposts. Francis took another long drink from his glass and refilled it before leaning against the window frame. He clutched his glass loosely in his hands and set the brandy bottle on the window sill. "Arthur ez a stupide man." Francis huffed angrily.

"What does he see in zat brat? I mean I am obviously so much better zan him…and I've never abandoned Arthur eizer. I have always been here right beside Arthur. Sure we have fought but at least I never left him! I have not scarred Brittan in such a way! And yet he still chooses zat brat over me!"

Francis knocked back more of the alcohol feeling it add to the warmth Francis already felt from his rage. It was true though. Ever since the beginning France and England played an integral part in each other's lives. Their histories lay intertwined with one another. One could hardly think of England and not think of France at the same time. Truth be told the Frenchman couldn't think of his life without the Englishman. Francis glared disdainfully out the window and turned his thoughts on America.

"Amerique is a stupide fool who does not understand the delicateness of anozer's culture. He ez so immature and rash and…and…and he ez stupide!" Francis yelled, too angry to come up with a good insult for the American. He stared angrily out at the street for a while before he sighed and gently rested his head against the cool glass of the window pane.

"I only wish he ad said my name instead."

* * *

><p>The next morning Arthur opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. His head was pounding and the pale light from the cloudy London sky sent new daggers of pain through his skull. What in the hell happened last night. Arthur groaned pitifully and managed to drag himself from the bed. His nude state pulled at the edges of his mind but Arthur's headache was pounding too fiercely for him to care about his state of undress. Arthur pulled on his dressing gown and stumbled for the bathroom looking for his bottle of pain medication.<p>

Once he had two pills and a glass of water in his system Arthur felt marginally better and he braved a look at himself in the mirror. He looked like hell. His normally bright viridian eyes were dull and his skin was pale and clammy. Arthur shuddered and then trudged out of his bathroom to go to the kitchen. Nothing helped his hangovers like a good strong cup of Earl Grey. Arthur walked straight to the kettle and filled it with water. He was in the process of fetching a mug when his houseguest made his presence known.

"Hello Arthur," Francis' unmistakable voice cut through the air. The mug crashed to the floor as Arthur whirled around wide eyed to face the Frenchman.

"F-Francis…W-why are you…" Arthur stopped as the events from last night flooded his brain. A hand flew to his mouth as he stared horrified at the man sitting at his counter. Arthur sank to the ground his eyes locked with a cool pair of blue ones. Arthur's mind, now painfully clear, raced. _It's not a big deal Kirkland. You've done shit like this with the frog before. But bloody hell, you've never had the audacity to call HIS name. _Francis rose from the stool with a catlike grace. He stalked towards the mortified Englishman and crouched in front of him. Arthur's green eyes stood out brightly from his almost colorless face. "I am so sorry Francis," Arthur blurted holding out a hand to stop the other nation's advance. Francis ignored the hand and the apology and kept getting closer to the Brit. He leaned forward and planted his mouth on the frozen Englishman's and kissed the man until with a small moan Arthur caved into the kiss and relaxed. Francis hoped that last night had been a fluke and that he still had a chance with the hot tempered Brit. The Frenchman tried to deepen the kiss but felt his heart shatter when a hand came up and pushed Arthur's eyes were filled with apology and regret. Francis felt the rage that had calmed in the early morning hours bloom once again in his chest.

"He doesn't love you, only a fool would love someone like you," Francis bit out harshly. He tore his eyes away from the man in front of him and rose to his feet. Without another word Francis stormed out of the flat and left Britain on his kitchen floor with tears running down his cheeks. _Too bad the biggest fool in the world could never love me _Arthur thought burying his face in his knees.

Arthur didn't know how much time had passed before he finally was able to pick himself up off the floor. He thanked God that the meeting for today was set to be a dinner meeting and that he didn't have to be presentable just yet. The clock read two in the afternoon. Arthur sighed with shaky breath. "No doubt I look even worse off than I did this morning." Arthur said dryly trying to fill the crushing silence of his flat. He felt numb, like someone could run him over with a train and he still wouldn't feel anything. Deep down he realized he was resorting to what he called his nation mode. As a nation he had a duty to fulfill even if his personal life was hell. "After all a gentleman is never seen in public looking less than perfect." Arthur repeated to himself clinging to his mantra in order to keep from falling apart.

* * *

><p>The ballroom of London's finest hotel was impeccably decorated and the overall atmosphere was one of elegance and sophistication. Arthur smiled slightly as he saw what his months of planning had produced. It seemed that Britain could still throw a dinner with the best of them. So far everything was running smoothly. The chefs were flown in from Italy. It seemed that the other nations didn't appreciate British cuisine and had opted for something else. Arthur sniffed disdainfully; they just couldn't appreciate good food. All that was left was to lay out name cards at the tables and wait for the other nations to arrive. Naturally at the time when Arthur had made the seating chart Francis and him were on speaking terms so unfortunately Arthur knew he was in for an awkward night. There was no time to rearrange everyone so diplomacy was kept so Arthur would just have to rely on his perfect British manners to keep the peace. Arthur took a deep breath and pasted a smile onto his face. It wouldn't do for the host to be in a sour disposition.<p>

The guests began to arrive promptly at half past six with Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Prussia being the first to walk through the door. Arthur watched the albino ex-nation walk past him and had a brief pang of fear. He didn't want to end up like that poor bloke with no county and no place in world affairs. The only reason Prussia was even at the event was because it was a social gathering and official politics weren't being discussed. The other nations slowly filtered in and Arthur greeted each one cordially and implored them to enjoy themselves. When Francis arrived he swept past Arthur without a glance and headed over to Antonio and Gilbert. If anyone noticed they didn't comment. It was known that the relationship between the two was volatile at best. America and Canada arrived together though to most it seemed like the superpower walked in on his own. They were the last people to arrive.

"Hello America," Arthur looked at the other man and had to think for a moment on who he was,"…and Canada. It is good to see you both well. Come in and enjoy the party. Dinner will be served at seven." Canada nodded to him and walked into the room but America stayed behind and looked at Britain with a scrutinizing eye. Arthur had to refrain from squirming under the other's gaze. He hadn't seen America's eyes look like that for a long time. Normally the other man's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and youthful naivety. Being on the receiving end of such a serious look chilled the Brit "Yes? Is there something wrong?" the Brit asked a little irritably

"You seem troubled. I noticed it at the meeting the other day as well. What's wrong?" Alfred spoke calmly staring into the other man's eyes. Arthur was taken aback. His face flushed and he sputtered.

"What do you mean what's wrong? Nothing is wrong," Arthur hissed. Alfred raised one golden eyebrow and shook his head. He leaned in close to the other man.

"You forget Arthur, that I know you too well to believe that," Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear. A shiver raced down Arthur's spine and it took all his willpower not to close his eyes. Arthur reached up and pushed Alfred away.

"You don't know me at all America," Arthur said angrily. He noticed what he thought to be a flicker of pain flash through cornflower blue eyes but it was gone so quickly that he must have imagined it. Alfred's eyes went back to the cool blue that sent shivers running through Arthur. When Arthur went to pull his hands away from the American he was stopped quickly. Alfred latched onto one of Arthurs hands.

"Perhaps," Alfred said mildly. He raised the captured had to his lips and placed a kiss on the inside of Arthur's wrist. Arthur was dumbstruck as Alfred released his hand and calmly strode into the ballroom. The Englishman knew that it was his duty to follow the American into the room and behave like a proper host but more than anything he needed to go and collect himself before anyone saw him.

**Well that's all in this chapter, next chapter will be the diner party with Canada, France, America, and England at the same table. *Gasp* Also Alfred's thoughts on his encounter with Arthur. Hope you enjoyed. Read and Review **


End file.
